


Negotiations

by BellaMortis



Series: Trope Bingo - Round 3 [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Asgardian Tony Stark, Enemies to Lovers, Even as a human, Human Loki, Loki Does What He Wants, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-29
Updated: 2014-04-29
Packaged: 2018-01-21 05:58:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1540187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BellaMortis/pseuds/BellaMortis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>-Continued from <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1442581">"Invasion: Mirrored"</a>.</p><p>Anthony Starkson was sure that he was going to be sent back to Asgard.  Instead, he finds himself abducted from the interrogation cell, and a familiar foe has an offer for him that is not S.H.I.E.L.D. approved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Negotiations

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Anything trademarked is not mine. Just the embarrassing situations.
> 
> This is a fill for the Trope Bingo square "Rivals to Lovers". Seriously, writing this, all I could think "well, that was easy".

The battle had been won.  The group now officially known as the Avengers had succeeded at taking down their first true enemy, a powerful Norse god bent on global domination and his alien army.  In the aftermath, Anthony found himself in yet another cage, only this time with opaque walls made of metal and a shiny new set of magic-dampening manacles.  

 

He had to admit that the gag, when mixed with his leather armor, pushed the whole ensemble over into veritable bondage gear.  He also found it sad that such thoughts were the only source of amusement available to him since being thrown in the metal box or, as the agents that occasionally stopped by to interrogate him called it, S.H.I.E.L.D. interrogation cell A1.  Now even those agents had stopped coming to see him, and he was bored.  He would even have taken the mortals that dared to bleed him, especially since there was that one with the curly hair all the way down her back and legs that practically went for miles -  

 

Either way, Anthony would have figured on Thor dragging him back to Asgard by now, but then he remembered that his not-brother had found a little something during his all-too-short exile.  In Thor’s shoes, he knew that he would rather spend time enjoying certain Midgardian pleasures than returning a wayward prodigal son.  

 

He had fallen so far as to contemplate offering an exchange of information - false, of course - for one of those magazines that Fury had offered on the flying fortress when he heard the first rumbling.  It was surprisingly close and didn’t sound like it boded well for someone.  The theory was proven when the alarms started to go off, complete with a soothing mechanical voice issuing orders and moving red emergency lights.

 

Anthony shrugged and sprawled on the thin cot that sat against the wall.  If nothing else, maybe something interesting was finally happening.

 

Another rumble, closer this time.  He tilted his head in thought.  An explosion, maybe?  He could hear the faint calls of orders given and shots ringing out.

 

It was odd when the gas filled the chamber, but it shouldn’t matter.  He had the immunity of a god.

 

It was downright shocking when a good breath of it caused Anthony to slide down into darkness anyway.

  
  


***

  
  


Anthony’s first view of his new surroundings was a landscape of too bright light and blurred shapes.  It took time for his eyes to adjust, but finally he was able to see that he was alone in a yet another small room, only this one had institution white walls, a bare table before him, and another chair across the table from his.  

 

His hands rested in his lap, still held together by those accursed manacles. Despite this, it seemed as though whoever had brought him here took foolish risks, since the gag had been removed, weakening the hold that they had on his power.  He could feel his seiðr, a small trickle just out of reach where it usually was a river rushing over him.  Still, it could be enough, if he waited for just the right time.

 

He’d barely began drawing from the trickle when it felt as though something slammed into him, and a painful buzz started to sing through his bones.  He growled and curled in on himself.

 

“It is suggested that you do not attempt using magic, Mr. Starkson,” a strangely familiar voice said to him, sultry and feminine.  It came from the direction of the ceiling.  “My master has instructed me to use his newest invention to interfere in any magical activity.  He also wishes you to know that this method of interference is untested and most likely highly dangerous.”

 

“I understand,” Anthony grumbled, releasing the small amount of power he had managed to build up.  He sighed with relief when the feeling faded, leaving the barest of echoes.  

 

“Good choice, Starkson.”  The new smooth, cultured voice in the room was amused.  It also came from right behind him.  “I wouldn’t want to hurt you after going through all that trouble to get you here.”  

 

As he spoke, Loki moved into Anthony’s line of sight.  Needless to say, he looked good, even better than on that balcony.  Mouth going dry, Anthony let his eyes drag over the perfectly pressed black suit, his eyes automatically drawn to the tails of green tie that hung loose about Loki’s neck.  It framed the fact that the top two buttons of his shirt were casually undone to show even more pale skin.   

 

Anthony ignored the memory of that smooth skin under his lips and smiled.  “It is interesting that a self-proclaimed hero would even do so.  After all, I am a dangerous war criminal who had been safely locked away.  Won’t your little friends be angry?”

 

Loki huffed a short laugh as he walked over and settled himself in the other chair, taking up the same spread-leg stance that had so captured Anthony’s attention the previous time they talked.  It was a pity the table was in the way this time.  “I don’t believe the matter will come up,” he said, deliberately vague.  “Besides, I wouldn’t exactly call myself a hero.”

 

Anthony shook his head.  “That was not what you said before battle.  Meaning to or not, you included yourself in your band of - what did you call it, Earth’s mightiest heroes?”

 

“Something like that,” Loki said.  He shrugged gracefully.  “What can I say?  My goals tend to  temporarily shift when my planet is under attack.”

 

Anthony lounged in his seat, copying the mortal’s pose.  He kept his expression light, but allowed his tone to dip lower.  Not quite threatening, but indicating a flash of danger under the pleasantries.  “Not that I’m not grateful for the break in monotony, but why am I here?”

 

“Simple.  Starkson, I have an offer for you.”  Loki reached down to grab something out of Anthony’s sight.  The binder he lifted was packed full and so heavy it made a hearty thump as it landed face-up on the table.  

 

Anthony didn’t make a move to touch, just looking down at it with a single raised eyebrow.  “And that is?”

 

“A contract.  I’m sure you have heard of them, even on Asgard.”

 

Anthony rolled his eyes.  “I meant, what is your offer?”   

 

Loki’s smile was bright, mostly teeth.  “I want to hire you as a magic consultant.”

 

“A magic consultant.”  Anthony’s voice was flat.

 

Another shrug.  “I’m willing to negotiate as far as your exact duties, but as that is both your specialty and an area that my corporation is sorely lacking experienced talent in, I figured that would be the best place to start.”

 

Anthony thought for a moment.  The idea of entering into a contract with a mortal sounded dreadfully common for a prince of the nine realms.  Still, he was currently more of a fallen prince with an uncertain future, and he did wonder where this would go.  “What are you willing to offer me in return for such a service?”

 

Something flickered in the green eyes, but they were carefully blank again before Anthony could quite tell what it had been.  It was actually a fairly impressive feat.  “That is also negotiable.  Name your price.”

 

Anthony’s gaze wandered back to the revealed niche of skin at the base of the mortal’s throat.   _You.  Over this table and other various surfaces.  Repeatedly._  Swallowing, he looked back down to the folder and pushed the words out of his mind.  “What do you usually offer your consultants?”

 

“It varies,” Loki replied, his gaze lowering to where he was playing with a ring on his pointer finger, running his thumb over it absently.  “Most take a flat hourly fee, including bonuses if we need them outside of their preferred consultation hours.  With you, I’m guessing we would include extra incentives, such as housing, board, and protection.”  

 

Memories of a hot mouth and the warmth of that hard body against his crashed through Anthony’s mind at the word incentives.  “Is that all you would offer me?” he asked.  

 

Loki looked up again.  “What else would you need?” he asked, voice low and carefully neutral.

 

Anthony could see the tension in the pale limbs despite the control the other man was obviously holding himself under.  Since he wasn’t able to see through the mask enough to tell if it was caused by anything in his favor, he dropped any ideas of seduction for the moment and switched gears.  “I assume that you include sanctuary in the offer of protection,” he said, relaxing further into the chair.  

 

“From?”  The tension released just a bit.  Good choice, then.

 

“Asgard, of course.  I am a criminal for more than just the wrongs I’ve committed against your realm.  Thor will not just accept your claim on me without a fight, contract or no.  Also, my recent failure has gained me certain enemies where I once had allies.”  Noting the way Loki’s brows drew in slightly, Anthony narrowed his eyes.  “Yes, I now need protection from the rest of the Chitauri and the much more powerful forces that have undoubtedly taken back command of them.  Would you be able to provide?”

 

There wasn’t any hesitation.  “Yes.  We've done well enough so far, and your knowledge and abilities can aid us in keeping you safe."

 

"We shall see," Anthony said quietly, remembering the beings that had been his former masters.  It would take much work to prepare Midgard for battle against the likes of Thanos and his followers.  He wondered if it could even be done in the time he estimated the realm had.  He started adding new contingencies to his ever growing list of plans.

 

"Would that be all, then?”

 

“Not quite.”  Anthony lifted his still manacled wrists.  “If I am to sign, I would prefer release first.  Consider it a sign of your good faith.”  When Loki hesitated to move, he added, “Or a sign of your strength, if you prefer.  How will you protect me if you can’t even protect yourself?  Believe me, my enemies together are much stronger than I am.”

 

Loki raised an eyebrow.  “And if I do that, what’s to stop you from just killing me and leaving?”  

 

Anthony decided to go with the truth.  “You interest me.  I usually don’t destroy interesting people when they’re doing things that benefit me.”  

 

“I can accept that.”  Loki finally stood, walking around the table and reaching into a pocket.  The key he pulled out was strangely shaped and familiar.  

 

From what Anthony knew, that key was supposed to be hanging around Fury's neck until Thor took possession of it before leaving for Asgard.  The one-eyed director had taken obvious pleasure in informing Anthony of this before tucking it away and leaving him in that box.  

 

Interesting, indeed.

 

“Arms on the table.”

 

Despite the obvious attempt at distance, Loki still had to come close enough for Anthony to catch a hint of the man’s scent.  Citrus and spice, mixed with a hint of something expensive.  When the manacles opened fully, he could feel the river inside rush up to meet him.  He briefly thought of escape, of pushing the mortal away and running for it.  Instead, what Anthony did was smoothly slide a hand around a pale wrist before Loki could pull away.  His fingers ran up against a band of cool metal, showing that Loki had been even less defenseless than he’d thought.

 

“Are you sure that was all you wanted on the table?” he asked suggestively, going for broke.  He followed the line up with a sharp tug, causing Loki to fall forward.  The mortal just caught himself from toppling over onto Anthony with a hand on the edge of the aforementioned table, and suddenly glaring green eyes lined up perfectly with his.  

 

Still, they were darker than they had been before.  

 

“You are shameless,” Loki snapped, although the words had less bite than they could have.    

 

Anthony slid his thumb against a fluttering pulse, and smiled at the tell.  Oh, yeah, this was more like it.  “I never indicated I wasn’t,” he said, starting to move forward.  “If you want me to stop, just say so.  Or call your armor, if it would make you feel better.”

 

Even though Loki looked as though he wanted to eviscerate Anthony, he didn’t follow any of the given suggestions or even back away.  Instead, he allowed the advance until Anthony was close enough that his whispered, “You didn’t return my Ray Bans,” was just a hair away from touching the god’s lips.

 

“I said I’d owe you,” Anthony replied, voice low.  "I also offered to let you fuck me."

 

“Oh.”  Loki's eyes widened, pupils blowing even further.  "Yes, you did."

 

Anthony smiled and closed the gap.  The mouth under his hesitated at the first touch, but Anthony was able to entice a response, lips opening to allow him entrance.  Once he greedily slid his infamous liar’s tongue between them, though, Loki easily turned it into a battle, matching the slow satisfaction with biting need.  Anthony couldn’t resist raising a hand and threading it into the soft hair at the base of Loki’s neck, holding the mortal tighter against him.  He was rewarded with a low groan and a hand falling to rest on his thigh, a welcome pressure over the leather.  

 

Breaking away from that mouth, Anthony trailed his lips across pale, lightly stubbled jaw to bite just behind a slightly red ear.  “So, table,” he said roughly, before standing, drawing Loki up with him and pushing back until the other man came up against that piece of furniture.  Then his lips were back against now flushed skin, right on the spot that was already starting to bruise.  

 

Huh, mortals were really easy to mark.  Anthony couldn’t help biting down again.

 

Loki hissed, and Anthony could feel the pressure of hands digging tightly into his lower back.  He had a moment to wonder if he had bitten too hard before they moved down and found purchase against his ass, drawing him closer in between long legs.  They slotted together, and Anthony could feel that Loki was just as hard as he was.  He couldn’t help moaning softly at the contact, and was immensely pleased when the body against his first shuddered, then slid against his again in just the right way.

 

Feeling the sudden need to get his mouth on everything he felt against him, Anthony pulled back and dropped smoothly to his knees.  A quick flick of his fingers had the suit pants button undone, and he couldn’t resist glancing up as he moved forward to take the zipper tab between his teeth.  Lust blown eyes watched him avidly, and there was a full flush across the high cheekbones.  

 

Beautiful.  

 

Grinning wickedly, Anthony held the eye contact as he pulled it down slowly.

 

“Oh, god,” Loki muttered, voice rough.

 

Anthony released the tab.  “Sounds about right,” he said as he reached up, dragging the pants out of the way so that he could mouth at the silk beneath.  Green, just as he had expected.  Moving up, he wrapped his lips over the trapped head, unable to resist flicking his tongue out for a small taste of the slick patch above the tip.  Hints of salt and musk, but not enough.  

 

Above him, Loki gave a choked off moan, lower lip held savagely between his teeth, and shuddered again.  Wondering how often he would be able to make the mortal do that, Anthony reached up and drew the now wet boxers down just enough to free the trapped cock, wrapping it in his hand.  Giving it an experimental stroke, he was pleased to note that Loki's hand hit the table hard with a thud as he shifted his weight to lean against it.  

 

Grinning madly, Anthony slid his thumb over the head, dipping it into the sensitive slit to spread the drip of precome that hung there.  “So eager.  Do you yearn so much for the irony of a god worshipping you?”

 

The moan wasn’t cut off this time, but the huff of laughter afterward was disheartening.  “Who wouldn’t when faced with the one who ordered most of Stuttgart to kneel before him?” Loki managed to reply through shallow breaths.

 

That was much too coherent.  Obviously Anthony wasn’t doing enough.  “Good point,” he said, voice deep and rough, his eyes only for the flesh in his hands.  Moistening his lips, he moved his head forward, sucking the slightly slick head into his mouth, and running his tongue lightly over the tip.  

 

The gasp that came from above was reward all on its own, but the hand that appeared to grip hard in his hair, attempting to guide him further in, made it even sweeter.  Allowing it to do so, he let his tongue glide down with the rest of his mouth, drawing short, complex patterns along the velvety skin of the bottom. He swallowed afterward, the hard length sliding down his throat with a practiced ease.

 

Loki’s grip tightened and pulled, the pressure burning across Anthony’s scalp.  “On second thought, don’t,” he growled.  “Hard to fuck you if you suck me dry.”

 

Naturally, that only gave Anthony the urge to do just that.  Releasing the cock with a soft wet popping sound, he looked up.  “I know you mortals aren’t so feeble as to only reach your peak once in a night.”  Glancing back to the flesh before him, he couldn’t help reaching his tongue out to dip into the slit again, making Loki groan.  “Besides,” he continued, voice even lower, “release will ensure more patience for the main event.”

 

There was a surprisingly soft stroke in his hair before he was jerked back forward with a force that surely ripped some out.  Anthony didn’t care, eagerly wrapping his lips around Loki’s cock again.

 

Anthony allowed Loki to set the pace, the grasp on his hair loosening and tightening rhythmically as he bobbed forward and back.  Occasionally he would stop, taking an extra moment to lave a particular spot with deft strokes, a move that caused Loki to make wonderful little gasps and moans despite the pressure on his skull that indicated obvious frustration at the loss of control.  It finally ended up so that Loki was relentlessly fucking his mouth and throat, Anthony’s hands at Loki’s hips doing nothing but encouraging the hard slide with a soft touch.   

 

After all, Anthony knew he could take it.  

 

A single appreciative hum, mostly unintentional, and then the first splash of bitter liquid hit the back of his throat.  Grabbing the hardest yet with a wrecked cry, Loki seated himself as deeply as possible, his hips kept attempting to push even further as he spilled the rest.  Anthony obediently continued to swallow around the cock halfway down his throat, muscles milking until softening flesh and urging hands made him pull away.

 

Reaching a hand up to thumb away a thin streak of come that had slid out from between his lips, Anthony glanced up into eyes that had gone nearly all black.  They were watching him from the languid pose that Loki had taken, leaning back against the table with his weight on both hands.  He looked like a ruined mess with the flush across his high cheekbones, the still burning eyes, and the fact that his spent cock was hanging over green boxers that now had even more streaks.  

 

Anthony could feel his cock twitch at the sight.  He released the pale hip and stood, feeling the leather pull against it.  Loki watched him silently, a hint of wariness in the fucked-out glassiness of his eyes.  It made Anthony smile slyly, reaching out to move a gentle hand along the wrist holding Loki up and moving forward.  “Some reciprocation would be appreciated, babe,” he whispered.  He shoved his leather covered cock against Loki’s bare thigh pointedly.

 

Loki just looked at him for a moment, before snorting.  Then Anthony found himself against the table, hot mouth biting against his neck and eager hands working at the lacing of his trousers.  

 

***

 

Much later, Loki looked down at the table next to him, flushed and breathing hard, with his eyes half-lidded.  The binder had flipped open, and now the the top pages were wrinkled and torn, splotched with sweat from where they had been rolled over.  “You still need to sign, Starkson.”

 

The words cut through his afterglow, making Anthony’s mind start turning in familiar convoluted circles.  He remembered that without the manacles, he was now free again, and even something as flimsy to him as a contract seemed as a chain poised to wrap around his neck.    

 

He slid from his perch atop the mortal, separating their still cooling bodies, and smiled wide, all teeth.  “I don’t have to do anything I don’t wish to,” he said lightly, reaching for seiðr without thinking to don his armor again.  The sharp press against his mind was surprising, but not the horrible pain it had been earlier.  The manacles must have been making it worse.  His smile grew wider from the way Loki’s kiss-swollen lips thinned.  “Don’t wait up, darling.”

 

Still laying back on the table, Loki started spinning the ring.  Actually, it was only a piece of the ring that spun, and it clicked softly as it turned.  "I wouldn't do whatever you're planning, if I were you."

 

Anthony snorted, turning and working to gather more seiðr to teleport away.  He didn't know where he'd go, maybe to his personal spell room on Asgard, secret and hidden from the eyes of Heimdall --

 

White hot pain flared down to his very bones.  He could hardly think through it.

 

With the darkness closing in, his power slipped from him, drawing across his senses like sand as it went.

 

Sensation stopped as though a switch was flipped, and he found himself with his face in the soft grey carpet.  Even worse, he was making a strange high, keening noise.

 

“ALICE, that was five notches.  Does the log confirm a 50% increase on the field?”

 

“Yes, sir,” the sultry woman’s voice replied.  “It seems that the portable adjustment mechanism is fully functioning within the standards you have set.”

 

“Oh, good.”  A knee came into Anthony’s rather limited vision, yet again wrapped in expensive suit.  Exactly how long has he been suffering?  There was the already familiar pressure of a hand in his hair, gently stroking.  "What you just felt was my Magic Diffusion Barrier at 60% capacity.  I estimate at least a quadrupling of the effect if I ever bumped it up to full power, but I haven't had a chance to test it that far.  So, Anthony darling,” Loki said, sarcastic emphasis on the endearment so sharp it could cut and his hand harshly clutching Anthony’s hair, “you were saying?”

  
Anthony groaned.  He knew when he was outmatched, even if it was just temporarily.  “Where’s the pen?”


End file.
